Someday
by xfool
Summary: Mac's thoughts between the return from Paraguay and Harm's return to JAG - REPOSTED for easier reading


**TITLE: **Someday

**AUTHOR: **xfool

**DISCLAIMER: **This is just a test drive.  I am not making any money.  The characters are property of CBS and DPB.  Nickleback owns the song.  

**NOTES: **After a bit of a hiatus, I'm back!!!!  This little story popped into my head after I heard the song, "Someday" by Nickleback.  I hope you enjoy this.  If you don't then that's fine, but please tell me gently.  Song lyrics are in _italics _and flashbacks are in **bold.**

***I re-posted the story with some new things…hopefully it is easier to read now***

Sarah MacKenzie pulled the blanket tighter around her body; a lost effort to keep out the cold.  The fire, reduced to smoldering embers in the fireplace, had not helped; nor did the heat of the thermostat.  The cold was not from the fact of no heat; it, in fact, was the opposite.  It was the cold that crept into the body, the cold that appears with complete repulsion.  The Paraguayan heat rivaled her apartment, but lately Mac found herself without the comfort of heat.  The awful scene of her and Harm in front of the taxi; her ungrateful words; his face when he found her; images of Clay, they all danced in her head - demons that refused the exorcism.  She sighed again and threw the blanket off.  She walked into the kitchen in an effort to eat even though her famous appetite was no longer around.  Sighing again, she closed the refrigerator door and closed her eyes.  Anyone who knew her before Paraguay could see the differences the ordeal left in her.  Dark circles surrounded her eyes and her uniforms were baggy; both evidence of her turmoil.  She had tried to contact Harm, many times, but he never answered; never returned the calls.  Of course, that was fair.  He had every right to treat her like this.  She did the same to him.  Tit for tat.  It was such a cliché.  She wanted to try to explain herself, even if Harm didn't want to hear it.  Lately, she found herself at Arlington Cemetery – talking to Clay.  He died for her.  He didn't have to but he did.  How could she repay her debt to him?  The kiss wasn't enough.  It wasn't even true.  But, like wildfire, news of this kiss and her conversation with Harm, and…what he did to save her…spread around JAG HQ.  There were stares, whispered conversations – all directed at her.  Only the admiral, with the help of the SECNAV, kept hostilities out of the office.  Harriet, Bud, Sturgis and a couple of others had come through when no one else did, offering their support whenever she needed it.  And she was thankful.  But every time someone talked about F-14s, South America or the CIA, Mac immediately found herself thinking about him.  About how she screwed him over.  He quit the Navy for her, risked his life for her, took the first step.  And instead of saying "Thank You" she pushed him away.  Like swatting a fly out of her face, she dismissed him.  

_How the hell did we wind up like this?_

_Why weren't we able_

_To see the signs that we missed_

_And try to turn the tables_

_I wish you'd unclench your fists_

_And unpack you suitcase_

_Lately there's been too much of this_

_Don't think it's too late_

_Nothing's wrong_

_Just as long as you know that someday I will_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when (you're the only one who knows that)_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when_

            There were so many things she wanted to say to him.  This "thing" between them seemed to be taking its own course.  They had started all over again, largely thanks to the JAGATHON and Harriet and Bud playing up the "AJ doesn't see as much of his godparents as he used to…" guilt-trip.  Bud and Harriet.  Now the proud parents of two boys – ages 5 and 3 weeks.  Just thinking about her godson made an unwanted conversation weed its way into her conscious

            **_"Tell ya what.  In 5 years, if neither of us is in a relationship, we'll go halves on a kid.  With my looks and your brains he'll be perfect."_**

**_            "Ah, and what if SHE has my looks and your brains?"_**

**_            "That's good, too."_**

**_            "Don't make a promise you can't keep."_**

**_            "I haven't yet."_**

            "Damn you Harmon Rabb," she was sobbing now, staring at the broken vase.  She must have thrown it during one of her fits.  This year.  The baby deal.  Broken promises.  Well, she was the cause of this broken promise.  But it still hurt like hell.  Grabbing her car keys and purse, Mac left her apartment.  She didn't care where the car took her, as long as it was far away from here.  She ended up at Arlington, at a familiar place next to a large oak tree.  A light snow had fallen earlier in the day, giving this cemetery a look and feeling of peace.  She stood still for a moment, staring at the white cross.  It taunted her, as if saying "good job Sarah MacKenzie.  Now what are you gonna do?"  

_Well, I'd hoped that since we're here any way_

_We could end up saying_

_Things we've always needed to say_

_So we could end up staying_

_Now the story's played out like this_

_Just like a paperback novel_

_Let's rewrite an ending that fits_

_Instead of a __Hollywood__ horror_

_Nothing's wrong _

_Just as long as you know that someday I will_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when (you're the only one who knows that)_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when_

_You're the only one who knows that_

            She stood there, in a staring contest with the cross, for what seemed like forever.  Even her gift of time was not able to tell her how long.  From Arlington she found herself at the wall.  Harm had only brought her here a couple of times.  Amazingly she remembered the exact spot where he stood, tall and proud, and told her about his father.  In his eyes, she could see everything his words were not saying.  I miss him.  I want him here.  I need him here.  Now she stood in the same spot, tall and proud, and saluted his namesake before placing her fingers over the engraving.  Mac allowed the coolness of the granite to seep into her fingers before leaving, a stray tear that disobeyed her order to stay put escaping down her cheek.  The snow started to fall again, white flakes silently dancing from the sky.  She drove around the capital, taking in the sight of the White House, ready for the holidays.  As she drove away from the city, the lights shone through the black sky and dancing snow, creating a vision of beauty that could not be duplicated.  Now she found herself in front of Harm's apartment, gathering the courage to knock on the door.  She raised her arm, she was just inches away from it.  The door opened.

            "What are you doing here?"

            Steadying herself from the coldness of his tone, the accusations in his eyes.

            "I was wondering if you had a minute?  Maybe we could talk?" she paused a moment.  His stare got colder if it was possible.  "You know what, I shouldn't have come.  I…I'm sorry to have bothered you.  I'll just go…" she bowed her head, she didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry.  

            Harm stood for a minute.  He knew that she was reaching to him.  That her actions were saying everything she couldn't verbalize.  I need you.  I miss you.  Please, listen to me.  He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the door frame.  

            "You have five minutes.  Then I am going back to MY life."

            She inhaled sharply and her head snapped up, like it was forced.  The verbal slap across her face brought new tears.  Where should she begin?  Somehow "I'm sorry" didn't seem appropriate.  

            "Harm, I know that I hurt you.  When I came to see you before I left, something told me to listen to you…and…well, it's obvious that I didn't.  I know that somewhere inside you, somewhere down deep, there is a voice telling you to listen to your heart.  I wish I could have had the strength to tell you what I was feeling, but like a fool, I built up my walls – I was completely taken aback when you tried to make the first step.  All I could think of was making sure that Clay got help.  My first priority was everyone's wellbeing.  Health-wise anyway.  Then when we stepped off that plane at Andrews I had week after week after week of debriefings…when I was told by the DCI that Clay didn't make it through his surgery, I spent day after day with Porter… telling her what her son died for and why.  She lost her only child, Harm.  He died for me.  For you.  What else could I do?  I made the arrangements, walked her through the motions.  Then you went to work for the CIA.  Every time I tried to talk to you, you were either too busy or it was need to know or something classified.  I was watching the TV in the bullpen when you landed on the carrier.  Never before had I felt such pride.  All I could think was, I know him.  That hero used to be my friend.  I was – and still am – incredibly proud of you…"

            She was cut off by another voice.  "Harm?  Dinner is getting cold."

            "I – I'm sorry.  I didn't realize that you had company.  Who ever she is, treat her right, give her what you wanted to give me.  I know that sorry doesn't make it all ok, but please know that I am sorry.  I would give up anything to make you believe it.  What?"

            Harm was smiling, almost on the verge of laughing.  "Mac, she's not my girlfriend.  She's my soon-to-be daughter.  Hopefully."

            Her heart did a summersault when he said that.  "Oh.  Well, I'll see ya around, ok?"  She did a quick about face and walked to her car as fast as her legs would carry her.  

            Harm stood in the door way for a minute.  Mac's words were still weighing heavily on his shoulders.

            "Harm!  I'm hungry.  Who was it?"

            "Just someone."

            "It was Mac, wasn't it?  What did she say to you now?  Why can't she leave you alone, hasn't she hurt you enough?"

            "Yeah.  But I hurt her just as equally."

            "Well, whatever.  I don't like her."

            "Mattie, I am going to try to talk to her.  You don't have to like it, but if you meet her, please remember you manners.  And the fact that she is a marine who will kick you six into the next year.  Please, can you do that for me?"

            In true teenager fashion, Mattie rolled her eyes and nodded.  "Well, if you are going to talk to her then you better catch up to her."

            "Thanks Mattie."    

_How the hell did we wind up like this?_

_Why weren't we able_

_To see the signs that we missed_

_And try to turn the tables_

_Now the story's played out like this_

_Just like a paperback novel_

_Let's rewrite an ending that fits_

_Instead of a __Hollywood__ horror_

_Nothing's wrong _

_Just as long as you know that someday I will_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when (you're the only one who knows that)_

_Someday, somehow, I'm gonna make it alright but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when_

_You're the only one who knows that_

            By the time that Harm made it to the parking lot, she was gone.  "Give me time, Mac, and I will make it all ok again.  I have a promise to keep."


End file.
